


Trading tradition for trouble

by clandestini



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Anal Sex, Bottom Peter Hale, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Hotel Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Restraints, Rimming, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Strength Kink, Top Peter Hale, Top Stiles Stilinski, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 18:19:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17533799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clandestini/pseuds/clandestini
Summary: “See something you like, sweetheart?” the man asks and Stiles blushes furiously.”Rude” he points out, since it’s considered impolite for werewolves to use their superior senses like this, but the man only smiles wider.“Ah, but so very much more efficient don’t you think?” he answers as he sits down on the bench beside Stiles, scooting a little closer than strictly necessary. It’s only the two of them at the gym at this late hour and the music is kept low to spare sensitive werewolf ears.“I can’t turn my nose off, I know that you’re attracted to me” the man continues, not so very subtly flexing his muscles as he makes a show of reaching for his water bottle. “Why not make the most of that knowledge?”





	1. Chapter 1

He catches the other man openly smirking at him, no doubt drenched in the chemo signals he’s been pumping put since he first caught a look of those abs. And those thighs. And not to mention that lovely, thick neck. How did he manage to end up in a werewolf gym without even noticing it? He must have been a little distracted, just ducking into the first one he saw since the gym at the hotel had been overcrowded and less than clean.

“See something you like, sweetheart?” the man asks and Stiles blushes furiously.

”Rude” he points out, since it’s considered impolite for werewolves to use their superior senses like this, but the man only smiles wider.

“Ah, but so very much more efficient don’t you think?” he answers as he sits down on the bench beside Stiles, scooting a little closer than strictly necessary. It’s only the two of them at the gym at this late hour and the music is kept low to spare sensitive werewolf ears.

“I can’t turn my nose off, I know that you’re attracted to me” the man continues, not so very subtly flexing his muscles as he makes a show of reaching for his water bottle. “Why not make the most of that knowledge?” Some of the water escapes as he drinks, runs down his throat and chest and Stiles abruptly realizes that he’s been tracking the droplets, outright ogling the other man. Not that he seems to mind, he just winks as Stiles’ blush deepens even more. It feels weird, this level of forwardness. Stiles isn’t used to it. Interaction between humans and werewolves is supposed to follow a strict protocol, to minimize the risk of misunderstandings and possible bloodshed.

 

Stiles thinks it’s unnecessary, since the werewolves didn’t just get dropped onto the planet one day, they’d been there all along albeit without revealing themselves to the general public, and if they got along before then why wouldn’t they do so now? However the governments across the globe didn’t seem to share this opinion and insisted on codes of conduct and stilted rituals when humans and werewolves interacted to prevent misunderstandings, resulting in a system so complicated that no one could be bothered with it and interaction became almost non-existent instead. The only reason that he knows as much about werewolf culture as he does is because Scott took the bite for medical reasons a few years back and he refused to lose contact with his best buddy just because he became much stronger and occasionally furry. So this man’s complete disregard of the rules is both refreshing and intriguing.

 

“Let’s play a game” the man suggests. “I’ll do my best to sketch a scenario over how I think you’d like this night to continue and you’ll tell me how close to the truth I come?” Stiles nods and the man’s voice drops slightly, becoming huskier and deeper. “I want to get us out of here, right now. Get you back to the hotel, smelling like sweat and arousal and desperation. I’ll push you up against the door, kiss you senseless and get rid of all these unnecessary clothes. Taste you skin and see how far down that lovely blush reaches. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I have excellent control and I wouldn’t break your skin, just mark it up a little, show everyone that you’re mine. Then I’ll suck your pretty cock as you moan and ride my fingers, getting you ready for me and then, sweetheart, then I’ll hold you up and fuck you deep. Your legs around my waist, your arms around my neck and no leverage at all, you just have to hang on and take the fucking that I give you.”

 

Stiles breathes hard and presses one hand against his cock that has started to ache as the man finishes talking, faces only inches apart.  

“I take it that’s something that you’d be interested in?” the man asks smirking, completely unnecessarily as a rock could probably see how turned on he is, let alone a werewolf, as his pupils are blown wide enough to resemble saucers. He probably smells like a whore house as well. But this requires a verbal answer and Stiles nods as he tries to get himself together.

“Yes” he answers, voice rough and raspy. He swallows to clear his throat. “Yes. But I might have a little something to add to that, to round off the evening.” Because even if there is no doubt he will enjoy that very much he also has ideas of his own and he’d hate to go home with someone who wasn’t interested on being on the receiving end of things as well. As much as he enjoys someone to pick him up and have their wicked way with him, he also enjoys turning the tables and being in charge for a while.

“Oh?” The man sounds a little surprised, but luckily pleasantly so. “Do tell” he purrs.  

“Well, I do seem to remember that my hotel room has a hot tub. We could soothe our muscles in the warm water to recover somewhat from all the wicked things you just described, maybe order something nice to drink from room service and rehydrate a bit. Then there’s a lovely bed that just begs to be used and I don’t think we even got that far in your story.”

“No” the man acquiesces, “I don’t think we did. How horribly remiss of me.”

“Lucky I remembered then” Stiles winks, tilting his head just so to expose his throat. He knows what it does to werewolves and he can’t help but to flirt a little.

“Lucky indeed” the man murmurs, visibly struggling to look away from Stiles’ neck. “So now that we have a bed what do we do in it?”

“Well, I’m all about balance” Stiles answers. “So, just as you held me up before I would hold you down, spread you out, look and touch you all over and then go to town on your ass.” Stiles flexes his spark just a little, immobilising the other man for a couple of seconds before releasing his hold. He wants the man to get the general idea and he wants to gauge his reaction before they do anything more serious. He half-expects the werewolf to turn him down, unsure if he likes to submit as well as dominate but he shouldn’t have worried. The man inhales sharply, struggling against the hold, and then rises abruptly when he is released.

“Sweetheart, exactly how powerful are you?” he asks, a hint of awe in his voice, and Stiles can’t help to preen a little.

“Powerful enough to hold you down, eat you out and then fuck you until you can’t even remember your name, which I don’t even know in the first place” he answers and gets a smile in return.

“It’s Peter” the man says and then, as easy as that: “Want to get out of here then?”

 

And Stiles does want but he still hesitates because there is supposed to be a formal request and permission from the pack Alpha and negotiations and all that jazz before any of them as much as reaches for their zipper. But on the other hand this man is willing to risk it and what happens on a conference stays there, right? And it’s been a while since someone’s showed this much interest in him, been a while since he’s had time to indulge in something more than a rushed hand job in a club bathroom.

“How about it sweetheart? Wanna screw over tradition with me?” the man, Peter, asks again and Stiles looks into those blue eyes and realizes that yes, a hundred times yes. Since he apparently said that out loud Peter chuckles and pulls him up from the bench, steering them both towards the exit.

“So, what name am I screaming as you fuck my brains out?” he asks casually and Stiles barks out a laugh.

“Stiles.”

 

Peter is true to his word. The door has barely shut behind them before he pushes Stiles up against it and there’s a muscular thigh spreading his legs apart and a tongue plundering his mouth. Before long he’s panting and desperately rutting against Peter’s leg, smearing precome all over them both since they somehow lost all their clothes. Peter seems perfectly content to explore his skin all night, licking, sucking and nipping, but Stiles is impatient enough to threaten him with using his spark if Peter doesn’t get on with it. He gets a sharp smack on the ass for it but then there are finger prodding at his entrance and he doesn’t know what he wants more, thrust forward into Peter’s talented mouth as he sucks him off or lean back and get those fingers deeper. He ends up rocking back and forth shamelessly and Peter rolls his eyes with affection.

“Greedy, greedy” he murmurs and Stiles doesn’t even have time to retaliate before he’s suddenly hoisted into the air, legs spread wide around Peter’s hips and holding on to that powerful neck and shoulders. He can feel Peter’s cock at his entrance, tries to sink himself into it but he has no leverage, just as Peter promised him and all he can do is wait since Peter is a sadistic fucker and apparently wants him to suffer.

“Ready sweetheart?” Peter asks after what feels like an eternity, smirking as he knows exactly how much Stiles wants it, and he nods impatiently in answer as Peter finally, finally starts pushing in.

“Yes, yes, godammit yes” he moans, throwing his head back. “Fucking get in me.”

 

It stings. Even with the prep it stings because Peter is big and it’s been a while for Stiles but he likes a bit of pain and Peter takes it slow, stopping every time it threatens to become too much. But after he gets used to it it’s heaven. Peter seems to know exactly what he likes, no doubt aided by his werewolf senses, and when Stiles makes a breathless comment about him being a werewolf mood ring Peter scrapes his teeth over his throat and flashes his eyes.

“To better fuck you with, sweetheart” he jokes and if Stiles’ brain wasn’t currently indisposed he would object that he isn’t little red riding hood. As it is now, he isn’t prepared to process anything else than holding on and moaning as Peter unerringly hits his prostate with every thrust, rapidly pushing him towards orgasm.  

 

He might be standing but if Peter didn’t hold him up he would crumble to the floor, legs very much resembling spaghetti. Peter seems hardly out of breath though, since apparently werewolf strength is the shit when it comes to sex Stiles thinks and he might have said it out loud as well as Peter suddenly laughs out, captures his lips in a bruising kiss and leads him to the bathroom.

 

Stiles congratulates himself immensely for the hot tub idea, moaning contentedly as he sinks into the warm water. Peter stumbles a little at the sounds as he follows close behind.

“You might want to wait with those noises sweetheart” he warns, “or I might not be able to keep my hands off you.”

“Risk I’m willing to take” Stiles mumbles, eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of sweat and come being washed away. For a while they’re content just to rest together, lazily drawing patterns over each other’s’ skin. Eventually they move on to the rehydration, Peter growling at the poor waiter who can’t leave their drinks fast enough and almost sprints from the room, looking over his shoulder as he goes.

“Possessive much?” Stiles teases him as Peter drags him back to the bath.

“You have no idea, sweetheart.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I believe I was promised a second part of the evening?” Peter prompts as he’s finished his drink and put the glass away. “Feeling well rested, sweetheart?”

“Feeling well fucked” Stiles answers lazily as he stretches, revelling in the feeling of soreness and bruises. The werewolf sure knows how to use his cock to make a spark happy. “But I’m ready for round two if you are?” Peter hurriedly hauling him out of the tub is all the answer he needs.

 

Stiles is true to his word as well. As soon as Peter’s back hits the sheets his arms and legs are restrained by invisible ropes and Stiles takes a couple of seconds to just look at the man spread out in front of him. His skin is darker than Stiles’ own, more tanned. And while they’re about the same height Peter’s shoulders are broader, his legs more muscled. Peter allows him to look his fill but then starts to squirm impatiently and Stiles indulges him, crawling up the bed and capturing his lips in a kiss.

“Who’s impatient now?” he asks lightly, caressing the sides of Peter’s face.

“I am, sweetheart. Wasn’t there some ravishing on the agenda? I’m not feeling very ravished at the moment” Peter complains, pouting, and Stiles rolls his eyes.

“Greedy, much?” he asks, turning the tables on Peter, but the man is as shameless as he is it seems.

“Always, sweetheart” he murmurs and Stiles decides to get down to business, if only to wipe that smug smile of his face. He places feather-light kisses all over Peter’s skin, caressing it with both his hands and his mouth. He throws in a couple of nips and bites once in a while and smiles when he realizes that Peter’s nipples are extremely sensitive. After he’s had a lot of fun with that knowledge Peter is a desperate mess, straining against the invisible bindings and the sight of his taut muscles prompts Stiles to get on with the next part of the plan as he can’t wait to feel those muscles squirming underneath him. Slackening his control just a little he adjusts Peter’s legs and snags one of the pillows to put under his back, raising his hips slightly and giving him better access.

“Ready?” he asks and Peter’s impatient growl is all the answer he gets. When he licks a broad stripe over Peter’s hole the growl turns into a howl and he’s suddenly grateful for the fact that the room is thoroughly soundproofed.

 

It’s late. Very late and if Stiles wasn’t a gentleman he would just face-plant onto the bed and not give a damn for a week but instead he summons what little energy he has left and stumbles to the bathroom. When he returns, washcloth in hand, he pauses in the doorway as he sees the other man spread out in bed. Peter’s suppressed his werewolf healing and his skin is covered in marks and scrapes, his hole is stretched open and oozing with come. Stiles’ cock twitches in a valiant attempt to get hard again but all he does is towelling Peter off and then pulling him close as he gets under the covers.

“Feeling ravished yet?” he mumbles in his ear and Peter nods sleepily, nosing over his pulse point.

“Very.”

 

It’s only the next morning when they wake up to a barrage of missed calls and frantic messages, especially the ones screeching about courtship rituals, that they fully realize the implications what they have done. Peter Hale, brother of the Alpha and Left Hand of the Hale pack and Stiles Stilinski, Emissary-in-training and the best friend of the first True Alpha in many generations had for lack of a better word hooked up and world had gone crazy about it. Newspapers wrote about it. Alphas had called in emergency meeting to discuss how this would affect pack politics and existing alliances. Memes had even been created. Peter would have loved nothing more than to just go back to bed and let the outside world continue to be crazy but alas, such luxury was not to be had.

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” Peter grumbles as he rifles through the clothes strewn on the floor, trying and failing to locate his socks.

“Why didn’t _you_ tell _me_?” Stiles snarks back, chucking the socks in his general direction, narrowly avoiding hitting him in the face. “How was I to know I was about to shag werewolf royalty?”

“Please do not use those words as you talk to my sister” Peter begs him. “She’ll have an aneurysm.” Not that he wouldn’t love to see her face but it could become a problem if she didn’t like Stiles and Talia was always big on formality.

 

“Now all I need is a coffee and all will be well in the world” Stiles yawns, looking somewhat more composed now that he’s almost dressed. “Apart from this shit-show anyway.”

“No time for that I’m afraid, but I’m hoping they will have something in the meeting room” Peter answers, eyes on his phone that is blowing up with new messages again. His Alpha is impatiently awaiting them it seems.

“You were the one going on and on about screwing over tradition” Stiles remembers as he hops around on one leg, trying to get his second shoe on and nearly toppling over. Peter catches his hips, steadying him. “Why don’t you handle all this this?”

“You came quite willingly as I recall it” he retorts. Still holding onto his hips he moves in closer to whisper filthily in his ear. “Several times in fact.”

“Asshole” Stiles grumbles as he ineffectually jabs an elbow at the other man. It all turns into a wrestling match and it takes all of Peter’s willpower not to start taking clothes off again as they tumble onto the bed in a heap.

“Can’t we just let them negotiate and whatnot and we could stay in here?” Stiles asks hopefully, throwing the bed one last, longing look, but Peter shakes his head, pulls him up and steers him towards the door.

“Nope. Besides, how could we be sure they get it right if we weren’t there to subtly steer them?”

“True” Stiles acquiesces. “Scotty is somewhat lost without me on a good day and this is way out of his league. Our pack isn’t the most traditional one to begin with and I don’t think he’s ever negotiated with a pack as famous as yours.”

 

As soon as his pack sees Peter he is swept away in a storm of questions and he answers as best he can, a challenge considering that everyone shouts at the same time. Across the room the True Alpha tries to get an overview of the situation. Stiles’ explanation is somewhat jumbled due to lack of caffeine and sleep and involves a dirty hotel gym, Peter’s abs, water and sweet, sweet lovemaking.

“So essentially I was summoned half-way across the country because you were thinking with your cock?” Scott asks him perplexed and Stiles groans loudly at the summary, although it’s not technically wrong. Peter on the other hand cackles loudly with delight when he sees Talia’s facial expression. Somehow he has a feeling these negotiations will be more fun than he imagined. 

 

 


End file.
